


You're All I Need

by RoyalCrimsonCloak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2020-09-07 22:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20317390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyalCrimsonCloak/pseuds/RoyalCrimsonCloak
Summary: Draco Malfoy has everything he could possibly want- almost. His greatest desire is to make Hermione Granger his wife. His proposal is one to be remembered, but then Harry returns and changes those plans. What choice will Hermione make? Will it be the right one?





	You're All I Need

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: This one-shot was inspired by the song “Stay With Me” By Sam Smith and from personal experiences as well. Thank you to MrsRen for offering to read over this piece, and offer beta work.

_ May 25, 2002 _

Pain. That’s all Draco Malfoy could feel. Blinding pain that he thought would kill him. He sat on his knees, head resting on the rich chocolate leather sofa, sobbing in the once-cosy library that he and Hermione had worked weeks—if not months— to build together. His broken cries bounced off the marble floors, but he really didn’t care anymore. His witch was  _ gone _ , after almost three years together. A beautiful ring, one that he had custom designed for her, lay a few feet from him, gleaming in the firelight from the massive fireplace. It was by no means simplistic, but not gaudy enough that she would have been ashamed to wear it. He chose to go the Muggle route in the custom of designing instead of Goblin. A pear cut emerald, surrounded by grey diamonds to match his eyes set in an antique silver band gave it a vintage flair, while still maintaining a modern taste. 

_ A few hours earlier: _

The proposal was supposed to be perfect, and it was. He even consulted with the Weaselette, Hermione’s best friend! That was a man in love. He painstakingly planned  _ the  _ perfect date. A romantic picnic date at Hyde Park at sunset, dessert at  _ Chez Magnifique  _ on the Thames, followed by a slideshow of their adventures together—from Egypt to Australia that Weaselette had helped him set up in the library. At the end a special slide awaited her. While Hermione was enthralled with the pictures, he was going to be waiting behind her with a velvet box in his hand, on one knee. The slide read in his elegant scrawl, “Turn around, ‘Mione. Love, Draco.” 

She was rendered speechless, for once. He peered up at her with a genuine smile on his face, waiting. He cleared his throat and started speaking from his heart to his witch. 

“When we met at Hogwarts, I hated you. You were a swotty know-it-all with bushy hair. But the more I observed you, the quicker the hate faded. By our seventh year, my love, I was enthralled with you and wanted to make you my witch. I didn’t think it possible to love you anymore than I already do.  _ Merlin _ , it’s been almost three years and each day I fall in love with you more. Will you do the utmost pleasure of becoming my wife?” 

“No!” she answered quickly—too quickly, tears already rolling down her cheeks. “I-I can’t Draco. I’m so-so sorry,” she sniffled. 

Draco sat back on his haunches, dumbfounded. He blinked rapidly, trying to wrap his mind around why she had refused his proposal. 

“What do you mean, ‘no’, ‘Mione?” he whispered hoarsely. “I thought you loved me?” Tears formed on his thick eyelashes, but he blinked them away, determined to not allow his emotions to swallow him. 

The brunette witch sighed heavily, unsure of how to reply. Tears blurred her vision, but she pressed on, determined to be honest with him. 

“Harry… and I had lunch last Wednesday afternoon at the Leaky Cauldron. He broke up with Ginny almost a year ago because he realised he’s in love with  _ me _ . I don’t understand it, Draco. But he spoke to me about how well we fit together because we’ve known each other since we were eleven. I’m so sorry Draco…” she trailed off, still confused by Harry’s admission. 

“Why not me, ‘Mione? I’m a changed man. Am I not enough? I love you, Hermione Jean Granger, why can’t you marry me?” Draco asked agonizingly, tousling his white-blond locks out of frustration. 

Tears rolled down his cheeks, the dam close to breaking. She rose from the sofa, sniffling but stopped to press a hard kiss to his mouth, as if she hoped to convey how much she would always care for and love him, even though her mind was spinning in confusion. She slid the mahogany doors open and exited, then slid them closed before she could change her mind and turn back to him. He heard a quiet  _ pop _ , indicating that she had Apparated out. 

He sat there numbly, chest aching, the previous few hours weighing heavily on his shoulders. Another faint  _ pop  _ was heard, and he looked up, hope alight in his eyes but it was only his house-elf Morgemi, bearing a small silver tray with a bottle of Firewhiskey and a snifter glass. She sat the tray on the polished side table and shook her head, sad that her Master was upset. She Apparated away, leaving Draco alone once again. He blindly crawled to the side table and gripped the bottle like a life line, ignoring the glass, and pulled the cork out with his teeth and spat it into the darkness that shrouded the library. He slumped down in the floor, back against the sofa, nursing the whiskey. Tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped off his chin in earnest, sobs almost choking him. He threw the box in anger, the ring sailing halfway across the room. This only caused him to sob louder. 

“Hermione,” he screamed out in agony. “Hermione!!! Please come back to me… I need you,” he whispered brokenly. 

  
  


Hermione landed in her flat, stumbling because she could barely see through the tears. She noticed the bane of her existence in that moment seated on her worn sofa, the Man-Who-Lived. 

“What are you doing here, Harry?” 

“I came to talk to you, ‘Mione,” he hesitated. He tousled his jet-black locks, much like her almost-fiancé did. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking out. She pulled her hands down her face, her already red-rimmed eyes becoming redder. 

“Harry, he proposed tonight,” she whispered, “but I turned him down to try and make sense of all  _ this _ . It hurt so much. Harry, I love him deeply, but those feelings for you are almost equally as strong,” she confessed. 

Her hiccups broke the awkward silence between the pair. She strode over to the sofa and perched on the far end, away from Harry. He started to reach out and take her hand, but decided against it. 

“I’m sorry, ‘Mione,” he murmured, “I had no idea he was going to do that, or I never would have said anything to you. I’m so sorry.” 

He decided then to reach out and stroke her hair gently, causing her to flinch at the sudden contact, but not moving away. Somehow his touch finally gave her permission to break down, and she did. She cried out in pain, unable to hold back. She cried for Draco, for herself, and for Harry. The latter sat there, stroking her hair lightly but not pulling her in, allowing her to move first if she chose to. 

“Draco,” she screamed out, tears tracking down her face quickly. “Draco!” she screamed again, hurting so much. She knew she had made a mistake by leaving him, but she couldn’t go back to Draco’s home because she hadn’t made her mind up yet. 

Harry sat there, helpless. Guilt washed over him in ways that he thought he’d never experience again after he broke up with Ginny. He  _ did _ love the witch seated before him, but not at the expense of crushing her. A gut-wrenching sob from said witch broke him out of his reverie. He stopped stroking her hair and leaned in, brushing a sweet kiss across her forehead. 

“I’m going to go, ‘Mione. You need time to think and I respect that,” he whispered, “even if you never reciprocate the love I feel for you, you’ll always be my best friend.” He straightened up and retreated to the dining area where he Apparated away.

Hermione continued to cry, falling apart bit by bit. She felt for her mobile in her pocket and withdrew it, fingers shaking as she dialled Ginny’s number. The red-head answered on the second ring. 

“Hey ‘Mione. You okay?” the witch on the other end inquired gently. 

“Come over,” Hermione choked out before hanging up. She dropped the phone on the sofa and leant back, fresh tears washing away what was left of her make-up.

Less than five minutes later, her beloved friend appeared in her living room via Floo. She rushed over to the despaired woman and gathered her in a tight hug, reminiscent to those of Molly Weasley. She shushed her quietly, rubbing her back. After some time, Hermione pulled back and sniffled. 

“Thank you, Gin,” she exhaled shakily. 

“What happened? Tell me everything, from the beginning,” the young woman directed. Hermione swallowed heavily before speaking. 

“Draco proposed tonight. Oh Gin, the ring was beautiful. The lovable git of course chose Slytherin colours,” she laughed weakly. “But… Harry confessed he loved me at lunch Wednesday afternoon. Gin, I don’t know what to do!!” she wailed, another round of tears threatening to spill. Ginny grabbed her into another Molly-style hug, a little shocked.

“What are you going to do?” she asked quietly. 

“I honestly don’t know,” Hermione replied, sniffling. “I love Draco so much. I’ve never thought of Harry like that. But I’m so  _ confused _ . I mean, I did have a crush on Harry our eighth year, but it was short-lived because he began dating you. But sometimes those feelings come back, and the cycle of aforementioned confusion starts again. Oh Gin, what if I’ve messed up?” she breathed out. “Draco is the  _ best  _ thing that ever happened to me. Gin, I was so wrong to turn him down!” she half-shouted. Her hair bushed out, sparking with her magic. 

Draco sat in the darkness, the bottle of Firewhiskey half-empty. Hiccups caused the remaining liquid to slosh around. He rubbed his eyes, sore by now from so much crying. 

The library doors slid open once again, revealing a dishevelled Harry Potter. Draco looked up, anger flickering in his eyes when he recognized who it was, bottle hanging loosely in his grip. 

“What are you doing here, Potter?!” he spat. “Haven’t you done enough?! Because of you my ‘Mione won’t marry me!!” the pale blond yelled, raw desperation in his voice. 

Harry stood there quietly, unflinching, knowing he deserved every bit of anger directed towards him. “Malfoy…I didn’t know you were going to propose, or I never would have said anything to her. I care for her, yes. But she obviously loves  _ you _ , not me. It was wrong of me to ever try to take her from you,” he finished quietly. “I wish you the best, Malfoy. Take care of her.” He turned around and left as quietly as he came. 

Draco blinked, once again dumbfounded, but also relieved. Maybe it wasn’t too late for them after all. He wiped his eyes, still sniffling quietly. 

“Morgemi,” he slurred. At her name, she appeared. 

“Yes, Master Draco?” she inquired, her ears flapping, eager to do whatever she could to help her master. 

“Soberrrr fufpf poshion,” he nodded like it was the simplest answer in the world. The little elf snapped her fingers and at once a small bottle appeared, full of a blue potion. She handed it to him and made sure he drank it. 

“Thank you, Morgemi,” he uttered, his head clearing and his speech returning to normal. “I have to go after Mistress Hermione, Morgemi. Wish me luck.” 

The little elf nodded and disappeared with another snap of her fingers, leaving Draco to his thoughts. He stood up slowly, straightening his clothing and raking his hair back into place. He found his wand and directed it at himself, muttering a  _ Scourgify  _ at his face. Once satisfied, he strode over and picked up the velvet box and ring slowly. He nestled the ring back in the slot and snapped the box shut and slid it in his trouser pocket. He smiled to himself and prayed to Merlin he wouldn’t be too late. He stood tall and squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on his favourite destination and Disapparating without a sound. 

He landed smoothly and quietly on Granger’s front stoop and knocked quickly instead of going straight in. 

Hermione perked up at the knock, recognising it immediately. But Gin held her back. 

“Let me answer,” she stated. 

Hermione nodded reluctantly and allowed the ginger-headed witch to get up to answer the door. Ginny crossed the floor briskly and opened the door, letting out a quiet gasp when she saw that it was Draco. 

“Come in, Malfoy,” she announced. 

He nodded his thanks and crossed the threshold, making a beeline for the curly-headed witch—his witch— seated on the sofa. He gathered her off the couch in his arms holding her tightly, eliciting a squeak from her. 

“Draco, put me down!” she exclaimed. After pressing a kiss to her nose, one of his many favourite places to kiss, he sat her gently on her feet. 

“Hi,” he breathed. He caressed her cheek delicately as she leaned into his touch, her breathing slowing to normal instantly. Ginny watched the scene with a knowing smirk on her face and quietly exited the flat, unbeknownst to the pair. 

He sank down on the sofa and pulled her onto his lap, enfolded tightly in his arms. He kissed the shell of her ear, causing the witch to shiver in pleasure. 

“Draco, we have to talk…” she cajoled. 

The man sighed reluctantly, ceasing his delicious assault on her for the time being. 

“Draco, I—”

“Hermione, love—”

They chuckled, both wanting to speak. 

“Go ahead, darling,” he urged. She nodded and continued. 

“Draco, I am so sorry I ran out on you,” she whispered. “I was scared and confused, but I had time to think. After I left, I called Ginny,” she paused, looking up at him. “She came over, but she didn’t say anything, just…allowed me to have a mini-crisis in which I made up my mind quickly. I want  _ you _ , Draco. Not Harry. I know he and I are close- we’re best friends, but he doesn’t hold a candle to you, my Dragon.” 

When she finished speaking, she kissed his cheek softly and sat back to observe his reaction. It took several moments for him to find his voice. 

“’Mione”, he exhaled heavily, trying to figure out what to say. “When you left, I admit, Morgemi brought me Firewhiskey and I got fairly smashed.” This admission caused Hermione to frown at him, but she allowed him to continue. “Harry came and found me and essentially told me that he was sorry for trying to break us apart. He had no idea I was going to propose to you, and he knew you loved me, so he bowed out and told me to take good care of you.” At this, he tightened his grip on her, grateful she hadn’t tried to get up. 

She gaped at him, unsure how to respond to his divulgence. Instead, she embraced him tightly, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, causing him to hum in delight. She reluctantly broke it, pressing her forehead to his, smiling at him. 

He continued, keeping his arms snugly around her. “Hermione Jean, you’re all I need, sweetheart. My riches are nothing without someone to share them with, and I truly wish to only share with you, and any future children we might have. Will you still marry me?” 

She nodded immediately. “Yes, I’ll marry you, my Dragon. You’re all I need, too,” she answered sweetly. “I love you so much,” she declared, kissing his entire face thoroughly. 

Beaming, he withdrew the velvet box from his pocket and opened it and retrieved the ring from the slotted cushion and slid it delicately on her left fourth finger, kissing the spot above it, then her knuckles. Happy tears rolled down his cheeks, causing him to sniffle quietly. She too had tears in her eyes, but these were tears of joy and no longer of pain. 

“I love you too, my darling,” he whispered, “more than you’ll ever know.” 


End file.
